


I know what I want (and I want your body)

by YuukoUchiha



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Derek Feels Guilty, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mind Control, Possessed Stiles, dark!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 10:31:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1185221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuukoUchiha/pseuds/YuukoUchiha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles have sex and Derek is feeling horribly about it, it's just the cherry to his guilt-ridden cake that Stiles wasn't the one to make the decision, but the demon's who is using his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know what I want (and I want your body)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been beta'ed by Caidanu, bless her soul she is not even in the fandom.  
> However English is not my first language, please forgive my mistakes.
> 
> This is spoiler-ish to episode 3x18
> 
> Enjoy!

Derek puts his left arm over his eyes, trying to block the sunlight that woke him up. He is alone in his bed surrounded by the heavy smell of sex. Lazily he recognizes his own and Stiles’ mixed scents, and for a moment there is bliss. When his brain becomes fully alert, his heart stops for a moment. 

The first thing he does is throw up. Tossing the bed covers hastily off him, he barely makes it to the toilet. He had sex with Stiles who is underage—he groans in pain as his body convulses— _underage_ that pretty much puts him in the same category as Kate, something he had sworn he would never do.

He can't look at himself in the mirror when he washes his teeth. He is disgusted, and he feels the need to take a hot shower for hours and just scrub himself raw, but that doesn't make sense. He is the one who should have known better.

Stiles.

Stiles is the one who needs comforting.

Thinking about the hundred reasons why Stiles left doesn’t do Derek any favors. Each one worse than the last. Even with the need to go right this second to Stiles’ house, Derek takes 5 minutes to shower. He knows Stiles won’t be able to smell the aftermath of sex on him like he does, but it still seems appropriate. He dresses, and while he walks by the bed the night before comes rushing back, Derek shivers and everything feels wrong.

He remembers everything like it was blurred. In a sense, he guesses this is what it would feel to be drunk. He remembers taking Stiles’ red hoodie off him—the one Stiles always wears when he feels like he is being funny. He knows he took his own clothes off, but he feels disconnected to the point that he could swear that when Stiles was taking his erection and guiding it to his own asshole he hadn’t been able to move. But that’s bullshit, and he knows it. He might not had moved while Stiles was riding him; he might just laid there, listening to Stiles’ whispers of all the dirty things he wanted to do to him, to have Derek do _to_ him.

But listening to all the talk about knots and how he wanted for Derek to use him like a bitch had him moving. Of course it had him moving. Derek remembers pushing Stiles off him and the wet sound his erection had made when he pulled out. He remembers grabbing Stiles by his hips, turning him around until he has on fours, and penetrating him again in barely seconds. He remembers Stiles’ long moan—not even caring to check if it was of pain or pleasure—and just fucking him like the beast Stiles had teased him to be.

Derek remembers vividly the way Stiles’ asshole clenched when he came untouched. He remembers the way the smell of come had reached his nose driving him crazy with need. He remembers biting Stiles’ shoulder when he reached him own climax. He remembers staying inside Stiles until they both drifted to sleep.

But for the life of him he can’t remember how it even started.

He feels desperate to apologize. He needs to make amends.

When he arrives to Stiles’ house he sees that the Sheriff’s car is not parked, and he is not sure how to proceed. He doesn’t think just climbing to Stiles’ room would be a good idea and instead decides to knock, that way it will give Stiles the opportunity to just close the door.

He can hear a bang upstairs and Stiles curse. He tracks the boy down the stairs and holds his breath when the door opens.

“Derek, my man.” Stiles is smiling and Derek can’t believe it “Or should I say ‘my wolf’?” The boy chuckles at his own joke. “Are we needed somewhere?” Derek can feel himself frowning, he doesn’t understand. “You know, you usually just come in through the window.”

“No, I just…” wanted to give you space, give you an option.

Stiles simply shrugs and doesn’t say anything else. He leaves the door open in clear invitation to follow. Derek closes the door after him and follows Stiles upstairs.

When he reaches the boy’s room, it smells wrong, stagnant, but Stiles is already opening the window so he assumes the boy hadn’t been around much. While Stiles seems to be in his element Derek feels like crawling out of his skin, though. Stiles looks like he is comfortable, barefoot, wearing dark jeans, and grey t-shirt and a blue plaid button up shirt over it. 

Derek’s heart is beating out of his chest, but he takes a minute to observe Stiles. He seems like his usual self, not a hint of fear or anything. Really, he seems content, even happy to see him when he opened the door.

Stiles sits on his bed—his legs open, his weight resting on his arms—and just looks at him, waiting. Derek removes his leather jacket slowly to give himself some time. He is still thinking how to start the conversation and is at loss so he kneels on the floor in front of Stiles. He sits on his feet trying to make himself small and make Stiles feel like he has the power over this conversation.

Minutes pass, Stiles feet start tapping on the floor and his eyes narrow, his head tilts to the side, and Derek feels like he is being undressed layer per layer.

“Is this about yesterday?” Stiles places his elbows in his knees, and Derek searches for signs of distress but finds none. There barely is a spike in Stiles’ heartbeat, and he can smell traces of arousal. It baffles him.

“Yes”

“Awesome!” Stiles leers, “We can keep going where we left yesterday then”

“I don’t- It’s not… what I’m here for.” Derek feels like a child unable to explain to his mother why he took the cookie out of the jar.

“Aw, c’mon dude,” Stiles’ says, his arms flying around. “I had to leave early this morning so my dad wouldn’t see I was gone.” Derek flinches at the reminder this boy still answers to his father. “Don’t get mad at me about it.”

Derek hadn’t even noticed he had been hunched with his eyes on the floor, but when he hears that his back straightens. “I’m not mad at you,” he says, willing the boy to understand that he couldn’t do anything that could upset Derek. 

“Then?” Stiles’ whole body is moving. “Words dude, use your words.”

“It shouldn’t have happened Stiles.”

“Just stop,” Stiles interrupts rolling his eyes, one hand lifted. “What are you going to tell me? That is not me, it’s you?” Derek cringes at the self-depreciating tone. “That is was a mistake? You can’t say you were drunk, though so you’ll have to find another excuse.”

“You are underage Stiles.” 

“Seriously Derek?” Stiles’ body relaxes. “I’m not going to get you arrested.”

“You think that’s what I care about?” Because, quite honestly Derek thinks he _should_ be arrested.

“We already did it Derek,” he says like it that simple. “And now you won’t touch me? The deed is done dude.” He smirks for a second. “Are you trying to make me feel bad? Wasn’t I good?”

“That’s not it.”

“Wasn’t I good Derek? Didn’t I make you come?” Derek feels sweat pool in the back of his neck. “Didn’t you like to keep your cock inside of me? Don’t you like that I still smell like yours?” Stiles whispered as his finger reached to touch Derek’s jaw. “Tell me Derek.”

“Yes.” Derek is hypnotized by Stiles’ eyes.

“What difference do a few months make?” Stiles shrugs. “Why don’t you just tell me what you really, really want instead?”

Derek feels like a fog numbing his mind, and he is unable to resist Stiles’ finger from bringing him closer to the boy, to kneel between his legs.

“C’mon big guy, you already took my virginity.” Derek feels like crying inside. “You fucked me, and it was so good.” Stiles moans touching with the hand that’s not on Derek’s own neck, and Derek realizes through his heartbeat that he means it. “But you didn’t even touched my dick,” he mock-pouts. “And while I admit that’s supposed to be quite the feat,” Stiles winks sassily. “I want more. Won’t you give me more?”

It’s alluring. In the back of his mind Derek knows he should say no, but in the forefront he hears a voice—that sounds horribly like Stiles’—that asks him ‘why not?’

“Give yourself to me Derek.” Stiles’ voice gets him out of his head and brings him back to reality. 

He can do that. He can keep close to Stiles and give the boy everything he wants, to take care of him until he finds someone who deserves him.

“Yes,” Stiles hisses.

Derek knows he should be punished for what he did because this? Touching Stiles? Feels like a reward. He’ll find a way to make it up to him.

“C’mon Derek, suck me off. I want your mouth on my dick.” Derek never thought Stiles would be so crass, so straightforward, but maybe the boy has watched that much porn.

Already in position, Derek lets his hands wander through Stiles’ calves and thighs, up and down once again. Stiles doesn’t seem to be in a hurry and for that Derek is grateful. The guilt is eating him inside. He doesn’t think he could even get hard right now, even with the smell of arousal in the room. If Stiles asks, though, he will find a way.

He hugs Stiles’ waist and just breathes him in until Stiles’ hands joins his and makes him squeeze his ass. He does it again and has Stiles push his clothed erection to his face.

“C’mon Derek, don’t tease me.”

Derek opens the button of the jeans and unzips them. He helps Stiles remove his jeans and underwear when the boy lifts his hips. He takes off the couple layers Stiles is wearing until he sits bare on his bed, unmoving with the exception of his left foot.

He takes the bottom of his green Henley, but before his takes it off, Stiles grabs his hand. “Leave it,” he demands and Derek nods.

Smiling pleased, Stiles again rests his weight on his arms, exposing himself to Derek, and even while Derek is fully clothed to Stiles’ naked body, he can’t shake of the impression that he is the one laid bare.

Derek takes Stiles’ erection almost reverently into his hand, and he licks the tip and plays with it. He appreciates the salty flavor and tries moaning around it, resulting in an even louder moan by Stiles. He takes the erection into his mouth while with his right hand covers the base.

“Yes,” Stiles hisses. “Just like that baby.”

Derek hollows his cheeks and sucks harder. He is not experienced per se but he is willing to try his best. He listens to every hitch of breath, to every whimper, every moan to guide himself in what Stiles likes.

“Deeper,” Stiles pants. “Take me deeper.”

“Oh fuck.” Derek looks into Stiles’ darkened eyes. “Derek, I’m not going to last much longer.” Stiles keeps moaning loudly, one of his hands now resting on Derek’s head. He pulls him so he barely had the tip in his mouth. “Suck.” And Derek does. He doesn’t move. He just takes what Stiles gives him.

“You look so good between my legs,” Stiles pants, pushing and pulling Derek as he wants. “Made to suck me, to fuck me. Oh Derek, you were so good yesterday.” Stiles moves his hips and now his left foot is rubbing his forming erection. “I loved it when you held me down.” Derek tried to clear his head but Stiles foot is rubbing harder so he keeps sucking Stiles through the abortive thrusts.

“Derek!” His mouth is being flooded by come, and he swallows it. He is sex stupid and just follows Stiles’ directions when he tells him to hump his leg. Once again he makes to undo his jeans but Stiles stops him. Derek obeys him, nods, and singled mindedly searches for his own orgasm, revering in the praises he is being given. He bites his lip when he reaches his climax.

They catch their breath for a couple minutes, and Stiles lays on his bed uncaringly of being naked. “Come here.” He pats the space next to him, Derek’s knee popping when he stands. “Good, oh my god Derek, you were so good to me.” Derek feels better at the praise, and Stiles nuzzles him, rubbing his ass against Derek penis. He smiles when he feels Derek get hard again. “Give me 10 minutes to catch mi breath and then you can fuck me.”

Derek feels torn. He feels like a teen again, coming in his pants, and he half moans because he is hard already. He halfway meets Stiles’ ass but underneath it all he feels remorse because he wasn’t supposed to come, even when Stiles seems pleased by this. This was all supposed to be only about Stiles’ pleasure not his own. Stiles looks so relaxed though, and Derek doesn’t want to make him tense with his questions.

\- - - - -

Derek never had hated being right in his life more than he did today.

It had been difficult to convince Scott something was wrong with Stiles, regardless he understood the reason. Stiles was his best friend after all, and quite honestly he hadn’t wanted to believe himself. Everything added up though, starting from Stiles’ own claims to Scott that something was happening to him, the smells, Barrow and all that happened at the power station. The timing seemed too precise and nothing was a coincidence in this freaking town. 

So here they were, Scott, Allison, her father, Lydia, Isaac, Deaton and the Sheriff--who wouldn’t take no as an answer. Kira had offered to be present, but in the end, she and the twins were on standby just in case.

When the exorcism had begun he felt like the floor had been taken away from him.

Those brown eyes turning black had been a punch in the gut, and he had wanted to scream. A very small part of him had still hoped to be wrong about this but of course Stiles was possessed, and of course the demon had to describe in graphic detail all the times they had had sex in order to make them lose concentration. And quite honestly he almost succeeded. 

“Oh. Don’t be a baby, we are all consenting adults.” The demon rests his weight on his left leg placing his hand on his hip “Well,” he snorts. “You know what I mean.”

Derek growls at that. He feels like dying because he took the choice from Stiles, and he wonders if Stiles will remember what happened when they exorcise him because they will.

It pains him the Sheriff had to hear it, the details. Derek stomach turns. He can’t imagine the betrayal the Sheriff must feel after they became close in the last few months. It pains him, greatly, but at the same time, the fact this demon discussed it in front of everyone gives him reprieve. He hopes the Sheriff will shoot him, punch him, send him to jail for sleeping with his underage son, anything.

“Get out of Stiles,” Scott’s alpha voice trembles through Deaton’s clinic.

“But I like it here.” The cruel smirk seems out of place in Stiles’ face.

“Get the hell out of my son!” 

“To be quite honest, it shocks me it took you so long to figure it out.” Stiles… the demon shrugs. “Derek doesn’t surprise me of course. If you hadn’t been so into me maybe you have noticed,” he leers at him. “But the rest of you? Tsk, tsk. You should feel really bad. Stiles kept telling you he was losing time and you did nothing.”

“What do you want?” Chris Argent says after helping Allison stand up.

“What does any demon wants?” The demon turns around to look Chris at the eye. “Bring chaos, destruction, hell in earth? Just the usual, have fun.”

“What kind of demon are you? Why didn’t this work?” Lydia asks not before standing behind Scott.

“My dear girl, why do you ask questions you already know the answer?” Stiles’ body laughs openly. “And I’m not going to tell where you messed up. What fun would be in that?” He signs to the destroyed room, all the furniture pushed to the walls, the black floor, Stiles’ body the center of the explosion.

“Perhaps,” Deaton tells Lydia. “There is something else we could try.”

“Perhaps,” The demon winks and snaps his fingers pointing at him. “Well, this has been,” he pauses, “Informative,” he says looking at everybody in the room. “And entertaining, especially entertaining but we’ll leave you to your… books.”

Chris blocks his way to the exit. “We can’t allow you to leave.”

“Allow me?” The demon’s smile is too big, too wrong in Stiles’ face. “That’s cute, actually. But you can’t stop me. You don’t know how.” He slaps Chris mockingly a couple times. “Tell you what, I’ll even show up to the big stand down when you have an idea how to get rid of me.” He looks at Scott. “Deal?”

Without even waiting for an answer he keeps walking to the exit, “Are you coming?”

It takes a couple seconds for Derek to realize the demon is talking to him. Surprised his unfolds his hands.

“Look, I know you are just salivating, waiting for the Sheriff to punish you, but you are going to have to wait.” The demon licks his lips before continuing. “Truth is, I want you. I want your cock. I want you to beg and hold me down and fuck me as deliciously as you have been doing.”

Derek can’t move, dumb.

“Look, if it’s not you I can find someone else.” Everybody in the room tenses at the implication. “I would just prefer if it was you because,” the demon raises one finger, ”the boy likes you,” he raises another, “you are hot as fuck and dude, that guilt you feel when you enjoy it? It makes my day.” 

The demon walks out, the door closing soundlessly after him. Derek can’t move even, and he can feel everybody’s eyes on him.

“I’m not waiting!” Stiles’ voice reaches them.

Derek looks at the Sheriff, he can feel his frustration. His knuckles are white, and Derek really wishes he would punch him, but instead of doing that the Sheriff meets his eyes. “Just go.” And that look, it feels to Derek like someone ripped out his heart.

He leaves the clinic and walks around the corner to reach his car. When he gets there, Stiles is already waiting inside.

“You guys weren’t really discreet about this you know?” Stiles’ eyes are back to brown. “All your cars are around the block, and I could hear you whispering before going in.” Derek makes a mental note to let everybody know this thing has enhanced senses. 

His nostrils flare when Stiles starts to jack off. 

“This is gonna be so good.” The demon moans. “My place or yours?”

Derek doesn’t think he will ever be able to set foot in the Sheriff’s house again. Stiles laughs loudly like he knows the answer already.

He probably does.

**Author's Note:**

> Lord, it's been a while since I wrote something...  
> I'm sorry this ended up being more like supernatural's "asshole" kind of demon than Dylan's "my body is ready" one but I wrote this before 3x18 was aired.
> 
> Regardless, I hope you liked it.  
> I feel a bit weird putting this in here but I'm actually looking for a beta, Cai was really sweet to beta this but she is really busy with RL and as I mentioned not even in the fandom so if you think I have potential and would like to beta my stuff let me know, that would be great!  
> I usually have problems with run-over sentences. I mainly write porn and I aim to please.
> 
> If you want to cry over Tyler Hoechlin's perfect everything here is my [tumbrl ](http://yuuko-uchiha.tumblr.com/)


End file.
